Twelve Steps to You
by Giada Luna
Summary: Miroku has always loved women, and it's almost always gotten him in trouble. This time it's landed him in therapy with a therapist that gives an entirely different meaning to being a "knockout."Dr. Sango Taijiya has never been lucky in love,and it's just her luck that she finds herself increasingly attracted to a charming, handsome patient-who happens to be a recovering sex addict.
1. Step One

_A super fast, fun, silly fic based on the random idea of Miroku being forced to go an addiction counselor for nymphomania._

* * *

 **Twelve Steps to You  
Step One**

* * *

It was 2:45 AM, and Miroku was slumped over Inyasha and Kagome's kitchen counter, nursing a strong cup of coffee.

"How do I get myself into these things?"

"Um, because you are a lecher?"

Miroku sighed into his crossed arms and turned his head to stare bleary-eyed up into the face of his ex-roommate's wife.

"She's got you there," Inuyasha snorted before coming into view. "And what the hell happened? I thought the plan was that after we left you had resolved to behave yourself, and were going to head home as soon as Hachi picked you up."

"That was the plan," Miroku groaned, sitting up, head in hands. "But Hachi got the bars mixed up. And never showed."

"So, who was the woman that dropped you off? Didn't get a good look at her; she was driving away too fast."

"No idea," he rubbed his temples. "I know I got into it with a guy at the bar…but I can't remember why. Don't remember leaving, or the ride here."

"That explains the lump on the head," Inuyasha grumbled.

"Miroku, something isn't right," Kagome frowned. "C'mon. I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No… no," he shook his head. "I just…I just need to sleep it off." He squinted at her. "Why are there two of you?"

Kagome looked at her husband and he sighed.

"I'll get my keys."

* * *

He still felt hungover the next afternoon, and wouldn't have opened the door if Kagome hadn't expressly called to tell him she was coming over with food.

He blinked several times at the toady little man, brow furrowed.

"You're not Kagome."

"I should say not," he huffed. He straightened immediately, stepping aside for another figure.

"He's here, sir – just like I said he would be."

"Yes. I can see that. Thank you, Jaken."

"It is my pleasure, sir," the odd little man preened. "Is there anything else I can-"

"Go wait in the car."

"Yes sir! Of course, sir!"

He hurried away, squeaking some innanties at the bodyguard and driver, Ah and Un before hopping back into the car.

"So," Miroku closed the door behind them. "Why the house call?"

"We have matters to discuss," Sesshomaru handed him a folder before sitting in one of the large, comfortable chairs. "Starting with how I am graciously not firing you after last night's debacle. Provided you comply with my terms."

Miroku swallowed a sigh, sat in the other large chair, and began to read.

* * *

Kagome and Inuyasha came over for dinner that night, so that Miroku could give them the bad news.

"You're suspended from work?" Kagome blinked widely. "Why?"

"Sexual harassment. A woman from work is claiming I made a pass at her last night."

"Well did you?" Inuyasha snorted.

"Inuyasha!" Kagome glared at him.

"What? He said it himself – he doesn't remember much about last night, and it's not like he hasn't had his share of leching."

"I couldn't have," Miroku shook his head. "I know her from work; no drug on earth would make me make a pass at her."

"But I thought you said they found drugs in your system," Kagome worried her lip.

"They did," he sighed. "Mushin turned over the in-house security footage. They caught her drugging me on camera."

"Well that's it then, right?" Kagome's face brightened. "They can prove you were drugged."

"Not exactly."

"Then what, 'exactly?'" Inuyasha asked flatly.

"Well, they are pending the investigation at work… turns out I'm not the first victim; she's pulled stunts like this before, and there is evidence that she fabricated those as well…."

"But?"

"But the only way we could buy more time and be sure was to claim that I am under treatment for an addiction, and that my case had to be handled delicately."

"WHAT?" Kagome squealed. "Why? There is proof you are innocent!"

"I had to," Miroku said plaintively. "She drags her victims through lengthy court battles. Eventually, they just give up and settle the cases. She's under investigation, but doesn't know it yet. I'm her latest victim, but I'm not her only one, so I agreed to help."

"So, how does claiming you are a drug addict not ruin your career?" Kagome asked, wild eyed.

"He's in the corporate world," Inuyasha scoffed. "A ton of them are drug addicts."

"They aren't saying I'm a drug addict," he fidgeted uncomfortably.

Inuyasha arched one eyebrow.

"So what exactly are you supposed to be addicted to?"

Miroku took a deep breath.

"Hi. I'm Miroku Hoshisama. I'm twenty-nine, single, and a sex addict."

* * *

 _This one is already complete - so updates will come quick!_

 _\- GL_


	2. Step Two

**Twelve Steps to Yo** **u  
Step Two**

* * *

Sango sighed as she flipped through her appointment book. Another bum date Saturday night - the guy left while she left to take a call from work.

The bartender hadn't said too much more than, "You can do better," before handing her a fresh drink and calling her a cab. It was a welcome change from the subway ride she usually took, and she'd been surprised to find it had been paid for.

That had been the only bright spot in her dismal evening.

Today wasn't going so hot, either.

"I know your caseload is full," her boss had said apologetically, "but I need you to take this one on. It is highly confidential, and we are doing it as a favor for a sponsor of our program."

She eyed the file. "There's hardly any information in here," she said, frowning.

"I'll fill you in later," the other woman rushed away.

Sango sighed and sat down at her desk.

"Why not," she muttered. "Not like I have a life outside of work anyway."

She made a mental note to call her brother and make sure he was eating and sleeping between doing his graduate work. She suspected that he had a girlfriend – she hoped it was that sweet girl she'd met when she'd visited him on campus that time – but last she'd heard, she and Kohaku were "just good friends."

Sango didn't bother to point out that it sounded like they were spending a fair bit of time together, no matter how good of friends they were.

"Be happy, Little Brother," she brushed her fingers over the old family photo on her desk. "That is all I really want for you."

* * *

Miroku had been shown into the waiting room and was waiting for his name to be called.

He took a deep breath, raking his hand over his face.

He just had to get this over with.

" _The first step is admitting you have a problem_."

That is what Inuyasha had said before erupting into riotous laughter, while Kagome just put her head into her hands.

 _"_ _Seriously," she sighed. "How do you get into these situations?"_

He couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

"All because I love women," he sighed to himself.

And he did love women.

He loved all kinds of women.

He could argue that he loved all women (with the exception of the woman currently trying to accuse him of gross sexual impropriety).

He just had never loved only one woman.

Previous therapists (contracted for other reasons) had chalked his serial womanizing up to a desire to have a family, since he was essentially the last of his line, and his inability to commit to his fear of loss and continuing to be alone.

Basically, everyone he knew agreed he was fucked up.

But no one could say he didn't have scruples to his fuckupery.

He never proceeded without consent.

He never took advantage of the obviously vulnerable or those under a certain age.

He didn't screw with anyone's marriages.

He didn't try to get to a woman through her kids.

Whatever anyone could say about him, they couldn't say he was a homewrecker.

"Mr. Hoshisama?" a nurse consulted her clipboard and looked around the waiting room.

"Yes?"

Her eyes landed on him appreciatively. "The doctor will see you, now."

He followed her back to an office, trying to decide by her covert glances if she had or hadn't read his file.

He was still idly weighing the matter he entered the bright, orderly office, and the woman behind the desk rose to greet him.

"Mr. Hoshisama. Won't you have a seat?"

He blinked at her twice, waiting for the sounds slipping warm and pleasant from her lips to worm their way through the part of his brain that would turn them into words.

She arched an eyebrow at him, and understanding slammed into place, as his brain jumpstarted and hurried to catch up with his elevated heartrate.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Yes." he moved quickly to one of the comfortable chairs across from her desk, and took a seat, rubbing his palms on his thighs. "Thank you."

"Nervous?" She asked kindly.

"Maybe a little," he gave a crooked smile, going for 'bemusedly charming' rather than 'what-the-holy-hell-was-that-just-now.'

"We all have our demons to face," she assured him kindly. "You're coming here means you don't have to face them alone."

"You fight demons, then?"

"You could say that," she smiled back. "Addiction is an ugly thing, but it can be fought. So, tell me," she flipped open her file and scanned it. "How long have you been struggling with this addiction?"

Miroku considered his lifelong love of women, and could only answer:

"As long as I can remember."

She scribbled notes in his file, and he ventured, "Shame I never met a demon slayer before now, Dr…."

"Taijiya. Sango Taijiya."

"Sango," he rolled the name on his tongue, even as he drank in her appearance. She seemed familiar to him, but he had no idea why. "Have we met before?"

"I think I just have one of those faces," she said lightly, still reading his file.

"No," Miroku shook his head. "You don't. I'm certain I've seen you somewhere before… I can't believe I'd forget a face as pretty as yours."

"Sounds like your addiction talking," a knowing smile twitched her lips.

"My..wha...? Oh. Right. That."

Sango looked up with raised eyebrows. "Yes. That. As in the reason you are in my office right now."

"I sort've forgot," he rubbed the back of his neck.

"It isn't every day someone forgets they are a nymphomaniac," she said dryly.

"A what now?"

"A nymphomaniac. Someone who is addicted to sex. Symptoms can include being an incorrigible flirt as well as having a disconnect in the reality of their relationships and interactions with those they perceive as potential sexual partners."

"I don't see you that way," he frowned, "And I wasn't flirting."

"I'm sure you weren't… seeing as I am now your addiction counselor."

Miroku just managed not to sigh.

"I feel better already…"

* * *

 _* Thank you for reading! - GL_


	3. Step Three

notes

* * *

 **Twelve Steps to You**  
 **Step Three**

* * *

"And you're sure you're eating? – And don't you sigh at your older sister; someone has to ask these things!"

" _I'm eating, I'm eating,"_ her brother laughed gently. " _Honestly, Sango. If you don't believe me, you can come down next weekend and see for yourself – we can even cook together."_

"Don't think I won't," she huffed.

" _Consider it an invitation, then."_

"I'll be there. Need anything from home?"

" _I'm good. Just come ready to eat all of the food you're going to make us cook. And don't worry about Kirara – I've got her stuff from last time."_

"Alright," Sango smiled. "I'll see you next weekend."

" _See you then – love you, Sis."_

"I love you, too, Kohaku."

She hung up and looked at his caller ID – a picture of the two of them last summer – before her screen timed out.

She sighed and put the phone down, and turned back to the files she'd brought home.

Addiction was a tricky thing, and she always made sure she was updated on all of her patients, and kept emergency files on hand, should she ever get a call about a relapse, an overdose, or the need for an emergency intervention.

She'd just gotten to Miroku's file when Kohaku had called to say hello. She opened it back up now, studying the black and white picture of her patient, and the statistics listed there.

She'd only dealt with a handful of nymphomaniacs – usually she dealt more with other types of addiction – but none of them had been quite like Miroku. Many of them had been charming, but they tended to border more on sleazy or obsessive, depending on the severity and nature of their addiction.

She wondered who'd actually tendered his diagnosis. Reading through the file, he did fit some patterns – serial relationships and affairs, no longstanding relationships, not much in the way of a type or discriminating tastes… but there was also no mention of addiction to pornography, or prostitution, or other behaviors that sometimes accompanied the disease.

As far as she could tell, Miroku was just someone who enjoyed casual sexual relationships.

"Must be nice," she muttered, eyeing an extensive (but she doubted exhaustive) account of his sexual history.

Sango wished she was the kind of person that could just enjoy casual sex, or anonymous partners – it would be far easier than trying to actually build and cultivate a relationship in her busy life…. But it just wasn't something she was comfortable doing.

Aside from a small window of time at University, sex for her had largely been in monogamous relationships that tended toward long term. Her last relationship ended amicably nearly three years ago, and she'd heard through the grapevine that he'd had a whirlwind romance and gotten married within a year of their parting. He and his wife were expecting their first child in a few months.

"Guess when it's right, it's right," she mused.

And while she didn't begrudge anyone their happiness, she couldn't help but want small bit for herself.

She blinked, realizing she'd been staring at Miroku's picture while letting her mind wander.

"No you don't, Hoshisama," she chuckled, wagging her finger at his picture. "You keep those hands, those charms, and that baggage to yourself."

* * *

"So. Miroku." Inuyasha eyed him over the top of his cards. "How's therapy?"

"Not as bad as I had feared," he admitted, "but I wish my alibi required fewer sessions."

"Guess they had to make you seem like an even bigger pervert than you are, huh?"

"Thankfully, we focus on meditation and impulse control. My file says I am making good progress."

"Oh, yeah? And what does Sesshomaru say?"

"That we are making slow progress," he sighed. "Part of the reason I have to attend so many sessions is to lead credence to the idea that I need to have that many sessions."

"Uh-huh. And that palm mark on your cheek?"

"A misunderstanding," he muttered.

"She misunderstood when you grabbed her ass?"

"I didn't grab her ass," his eyebrow twitched impatiently. "I misunderstood how she wanted me to position myself for the meditation exercise. It was an honest mistake."

"Sure, it was," Inuyasha snorted.

"What do you have?"

"Full House."

"Oh really? Well mine is just like your love life – a Straight Flush."

He pulled the chips toward his pile.

"Looks like your luck still sucks."

"Hmph," Mirkoku shved the cards toward him. "I'm getting a drink."

He made his way to his kitchen, half wondering why he thought having Inuyasha come over had been a good idea. He stepped into the bathroom to wash his hands, and winced at his reflection. The handprint on his cheek was still very clearly visible.

Althogh he hadn't bothered continuing his argument with Inuyasha, it really had been an honest mistake.

" _Besides_ ," he thought to himself, " _if I was going to risk being smacked, I would've done something a helluva lot more satisfying than accidentally grazing her backside_."

Unbidden, an example of a substantially more satisfying exercise came to mind, and Miroku fought it down.

" _She can't see you that way, and you can't see her that way_ ," he reminded himself for possibly the millionth time.

"Get your head on straight," he growled at his reflection, and returned to the game.


	4. Step Four

**Twelve Steps to You**  
 **Step Four**

* * *

They were two weeks into their sessions when one of the secretaries knocked on her door and dropped off a vase of long-stemmed roses.

The secretary had barely hidden her curiosity, torn between wanting to know more about the flowers and ogling Miroku – at least until Sango had dismissed her with rather cool "Thank you."

The door clicked closed, leaving Sango to shake her head and consider the flowers.

"Have an admirer?"

"Not sure," she shrugged, searching carefully among the blooms for a card. Miroku plucked it as if out of thin air and handed it over.

She took it, opened the small envelope, and read – her eyebrows lifting in surprise.

"Still not sure?"

"It…it's from someone I met recently."

"Oh?"

"Yes," she idly fiddled with the card. "We met out for drinks but…"

"It didn't go well?"

"I thought it was going well," she admitted ruefully. "But I had to leave to take a call from a patient, and when I got back he was gone. No word until now."

"And now?"

"Now he'd like to apologize," she read the card over. "In person."

"Hm," Miroku hummed. "Well, he has expensive taste, that is for sure."

"Mm?" she looked up, distracted.

"That is no less than two dozen long-stemmed roses, and they were shipped. That company won't use a local florist for this service."

She felt his eyes on her.

"Must be quite an apology."

Sango looked down at the card in her fingers.

"Guess I could at least listen to what he has to say…"

"Do you know him well?"

"Not terribly," she shrugged. "But he asked for a second chance, and, well…,"

"And you are sort of in the business of second chances."

She gave a small laugh. "That's probably a good way to put it."

"Then…I wish you good luck."

Miroku offered her a small smile, and slipped out of her office.

Sango stared at the card a long time before sitting down, taking a deep breath, and punching the number into her phone.

She'd almost hung up when a velvety voice answered

" _I guess this means you got the flowers_?"

"Yes," she kept her voice polite. "I did. Thank you."

" _Were they enough to convince you to give me five minutes to explain_?"

Sango took a deep breath, and said what she always said.

"I'm listening."

* * *

When Miroku had accepted the invitation to Kagome and Inuyasha's, he hadn't realized he was so distracted.

"Hey, watch it!" Inuyasha snapped, quickly sidestepping an errant dart. 'You trying to kill someone with those things?"

"Sorry," Miroku picked up the dart and stepped to the side. "I'll be more careful."

"I'm going to go get more to drink," he shook his head and muttered his way to the kitchen.

"Miroku?"

Miroku stepped behind the line taped to the floor of the rec room and lined up his shot.

"Hm?"

"Everything okay?"

"Fine," he shrugged.

"Really?" she watched him throw his darts. "Because you seem…off."

"I'm fine," he pulled the darts out of the cork and tallied his hits on the chalkboard. "Almost caught up," he nodded to the score.

"Almost," her grin twisted into something cocky. Then again, Kagome was eerily good at cricket – something about doing archery when she was a kid.

She lined up her throw, eying the 20's.

"Therapy going alright?"

"Fine."

"Sounds like you get along well with this Doctor Taijiya. Do you like her?"

Miroku considered as Kagome's first dart hit, closing out the twenties by hitting the triple.

"She seems competent enough," he shrugged, watching the second dart hit.

Single bullseye.

"Clever. Intuitive. Compassionate. A bit too trusting, perhaps, but I suppose she's used to giving the benefit of the doubt."

"Too trusting? As a Therapist?"

"No. As a person."

"Oh my god," Kagome's eyes widened, and her voice dropped to a whisper. 'You like her."

"Didn't I just say as much?"

"No. Nonononono," she stared at him. "You _like_ her."

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed. "My concern for Sango is purely professional."

"Concern?" she blinked. "What concern? Why are you concerned?"

"It's nothing," he muttered. "Just some person with a lame excuse, and - It's nothing."

Kagome threw her last shot, and marked her score.

"Looks like I'm not the only one that can throw a double bull," she put her darts to the side. "But you usually keep yours on the cork."

"Aw, man!" Inuyasha whined, coming back with a couple of bottles of beer and water. "She shut you down again, didn't she?!"

Miroku ignored the sense of Kagome's stare boring into the back of his head.

"Looks like I'll just have to kick your ass instead," Miroku shrugged. "It's your turn."

"Then get ready to get shut down twice in one day," Inuyasha swaggered to the line. "I'd've thought you got enough of that now that you are a recovering sex addict," he snickered. "Bet your therapist shuts you down on a daily basis!"

"That's the benefit of being extremely charming and good looking," he slid his eyes to Kagome. "I never have to go where I am unwanted."

She held his gaze for a moment in understanding, and with an imperceptible nod, he went back to harassing his best friend – who missed the exchange entirely.


	5. Step Five

_thank you for reading !_

* * *

 **Twelve Steps to You**  
 **Step Five**

* * *

Miroku thought he might be losing his mind.

He still did his work for the company, but as he was technically suspended, he had no personal contact with clients or anyone from the work place aside from Sesshomaru. He didn't go to public places alone, or without multiple witnesses, and he didn't go out for drinks.

It was getting old.

Worse than that, it was getting lonely.

(And maybe worse than that, Sango had agreed to meet up with that Kagewaki when he came back)) in town next month from "tending to his sick father" ((yeah right,)) and she was in contact with him fairly regularly now.

Luckily, Sesshomaru had agreed to keep him in the loop of the investigation of the woman Miroku mentally referred to as "Oni no Kubi."

"It's like she is collecting souls," he muttered, closing and yet another file.

"She kinda is," Hachi scratched his head. "Or at least livelihoods. Looks like she's ruined a fair few of her victims to some substantial profit."

"One of her latest victims has four kids and a wife seriously considering divorce," Miroku's entire face darkened angrily. "She's deviously clever - picked someone that works stupidly long hours who is having a seriously difficult time establishing an alibi."

"Do…do you think he is innocent?"

"Yes," Miroku said firmly. "I don't know what he's done in the past with other people, but his story hasn't changed even once."

"Doesn't the wife trust him?"

"That's just it," Miroku rubbed his eyes. "She always has. This woman is insidiously clever with how she picks her victims and what she does. She manages to make it so believable – that this person that spends hours away from his busy family has actually been with her the whole time. She went to the wife _first_." He glared at the file. "She had pictures, documents, phone records – all doctored of course. Totally blindsided the wife. Worse, she showed where she'd been roughed up. That night when the husband came home, the wife had already changed the locks and had suitcase packed for him on the porch."

"Geez," Hachi breathed.

"I'm not going to let that woman cost those kids their father," he turned over another page. "If only I could go over those reports I asked Sesshomaru for - then maybe I could get somewhere with all of this."

"Weren't they in the files from last week?"

Miroku's eyebrow twitched.

"What files from last week?"

"The ones in the big gray box that I brought over?"

"You didn't bring any files."

"Sure I did – I am sure I just saw the box in…oh." Hachi rubbed the back of his head. "I'll… be right back."

Miroku just managed not to smack his friend as he hauled two banker's boxes of files from his car into his home.

"Don't even think about leaving," Miroku's tone was ice. "You're going to help me sort through all of this."

"Su-sure," he smiled weakly. "What are friends for?"

Miroku fired up his laptop and dove into his work, glad for once to be focusing on evicting this woman from all of their lives… and ignoring that once she was gone, so was his time with Sango.

A picture escaped from its file – a photo of a happy family. Mother. Father. Four children. Miroku's resolve cooled into something unbreakable.

He had to make this right.

No matter what it might cost.

* * *

"There," Sango said, satisfied. "Fully stocked."

"Are you sure?" Kohaku eyed his pantry. "I think I spotted a tiny space between the crackers and the pancake mix."

"Hush," she ruffled his hair. "It makes me happy to know that you have food and can at least feed yourself if the need arises."

"You know there are these things called restaurants, right?"

"Do any of them make dad's chilli?"

"No," he grinned. "You've got me there."

"So," she flopped down on his couch. "When's your friend coming over?"

"In about ten minutes," he shrugged, but glanced at the clock with a nonchalance that wasn't quite believable.

"And what's his name again?"

"Actually…"

The soft knock came at the door and Kohaku jumped up to answer it, leaving Sango to narrow her eyes in suspicion.

She leaned forward, straining to hear.

"You're early," he said, but there was no admonishment in his tone.

"Sorry," a voice floated back to Sango. "But I just got done, and I was afraid I went home first I'd be late."

There was the sound of a coat unzipping and a hurried 'let me get that for you!' followed by warm thanks and gentle laughter.

Several more seconds of not-quite-silence followed, and Sango almost fell out of her seat leaning forward before the soft pad of socked feet made her sit back and adopt a look of nonchalance.

Kohaku ushered his friend in – a sweet girl with a kind face and a warm, playful smile.

"Sango – you remember Rin?"

"Nice to see you again," Rin gave a small wave.

"Oh, Rin, _of course_ ," Sango stood, sliding her brother a glance that stiffened his spine. "How nice to see you again – Kohaku has spoken of you often."

"Not as much as he speaks of you, I'm sure," she grinned. "He's been looking forward to your visit all week!" She turned to Kohaku with a fond smile. "I brought dessert," she held up an insulated tote. "Is there room in the fridge, or did the two of you cram it full."

"Just enough room," he assured her. "You hungry?"

"Starving," she admitted. "I haven't had time to stop for much more than a snack all day."

"That's not good," he frowned. "C'mon," he gestured toward the kitchen. "We were about to eat anyway."

"Oh," Rin blinked, "No – I'm fine to wait, I-"

"Kohaku's right," Sango smiled. "We're hungry too." Her phone buzzed on the table. "Go ahead, you two – I'm right behind you."

She heard Kohaku admonishing her about her blood sugar, and other things as she flicked through her messages and called back her office.

Luckily, it hadn't been an emergency, and it took very little time.

When she walked in the kitchen, Rin and Kohaku were moving with a comfortable synchronicity, setting the table, and putting the food out.

Their words were kind, their smiles were gentle, and their air sincere.

It struck her then.

" _They are falling in love."_

By the end of dinner, she amended her opinion.

" _No. They are already in love. They just don't know it yet."_

Kohaku had always been a kind, gentle boy, and he had grown into a kind, gentle man. There was something bittersweet about seeing him this way, with someone just as unassuming and caring and kind.

It had been just her and Kohaku for so long that the idea of there being someone else was strange and foreign.

"What do you think of her?" she asked as she cuddled up with Kirara that night. The cat butted her head against hers, purring noisily. "Yeah," she smiled ruefully. "I like her, too. Is it bad that I almost wish I didn't?"

Kirara gave a mrow of disapproval.

"I said almost," she muttered, and the cat purred.

"They are in for a big surprise, Kirara," she confided, scratching between the large cat's ears. "I wonder when they'll figure it out?"

She thought that the cat shrugged, but one could never be sure with cats.

"Guess we'll wait and see…" She closed her eyes and drifted off, halfheartedly reminding herself she'd agreed to see Kagawaki when he came back in town.

Strangely, her dreams had a different person sitting across the table and sharing stories – her handprint all but faded from his cheek.


	6. Step Six

**Twelve Steps to You**  
 **Step Six**

* * *

"So, your weekend sounds like it was productive," she looked down at her notes, and he grumbled something in reply. "That wasn't quite the response I expected," she looked up, pen in hand. "Did you not enjoy the weekend?"

"It was passable," he muttered. "Not nearly as productive as I would've liked."

He'd told Sango he'd reorganized his home office – he'd actually spent hours going through the files Sesshomaru had given him, but hadn't found anything particularly useful. He'd also done more regular work, but had hit several walls because he couldn't go any further without actually seeing his clients – which he couldn't do while "suspended." He was certain he was on the verge of a breakthrough – there was some simple piece of information – something buried in those files that would hang all of this together.

He just had to find it.

"You sound dissatisfied."

"More like frustrated."

"That doesn't sound good," she folded her hands on the file. "Frustration is natural, but if you can't redirect it, it could cause some problems. Are you getting regular exercise?"

"Sort of," he half shrugged.

He didn't need to tell her that he was not going to his normal gym, or running alone, or even going out of his house much to avoid the woman that was suing him – per Sesshomaru, and the investigating officer's direct orders.

Sango leaned back in her chair and considered him, eyes skimming him over, no doubt picking up on every irritated ion of his aura..

"Do you have somewhere to exercise since the….incident?"

Miroku cursed that she was so good at her job and settled for shaking his head.

"Hm." She mused. "Come with me."

She paused at the door, and looked over her shoulder expectantly. He got to his feet, and gathered his things, following in her wake to a separate wing of the facility.

"We do a good bit of rehabilitative therapy here," she said, swiping her keycard and punching a code into a panel by a glass door. "We have several patients with PTSD that require physical rehabilitation, but need to do it in a relatively isolated environment."

"Veterans?"

"Mostly. Some abuse victims. Some don't have PTSD but need the low levels of external stimulation. As an addiction counselor, I don't tend to have as many patients with those needs, but," she pushed open another door. "I do have access to the resources."

Miroku looked around the gym appreciatively. "Nice."

"You indicated you did martial arts – we have a room that can accommodate that sort of activity as well."

"So…I just … come work out?"

"Not exactly," she smiled. "I prescribe you rehabilitative therapy, and reserve you the appropriate facility. One of our staff will meet or supervise you – you understand you can't be in the facility unattended."

"Still, that is generous of you," he looked her over.

"Generous probably isn't the right word," her smile tipped up at the corner. "It's covered by your insurance. Let's go talk to my friend in scheduling, and get something set up for you."

Miroku sat through the next meeting politely, listening as someone named Hojo went through his health and medical history and set up a schedule.

"I didn't anticipate leaving with home remedies," he eyed the bag he'd been given.

"Hojo is very thorough," Sango grinned. "And he agreed that you aren't a threat to some of our more seasoned staff, which opens up more sessions for you. He and I both come here in the mornings, and are both certified to supervise you. Looks like I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Looks like," he smiled. "Thanks, Dr. Taijiya. For everything."

"Don't mention it," she smiled back. "It's all about getting you better, right?"

"Yeah," he managed not to cringe. "Right."

* * *

Three mornings later, Sango walked into the weight room and a very confused Miroku.

"What happened?" he blinked. "One minute Hojo was here, and the next he apologized and ran out of the room.

"One of our staff needed support," she pressed her towel against her already hot face.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," she refilled her waterbottle at the fountain. "Just a very large, very freaked out patient. He's very gentle, really – harmless even. Unfortunately, one of new guys got cocky and almost got put through a wall."

"That…that doesn't sound very harmless."

"It wouldn't have happened if he had read the file," Sango snorted angrily. "Jinenji has to be provoked to respond that way, and that is precisely what this guy did. He'll be fired before the end of the day."

"Wow…" Miroku blinked. "You're really fired up about this."

"Damn straight I am," she huffed, pointing her water bottle at him menacingly. "Our job isn't about us. It's about our patients. This guy made it about him; he has no place here."

"No arguments here," he lifted his hands in surrender.

"Sorry," she let her bottle drop to her side. "I shouldn't have even brought up names… it's just that Jinenji has had such a long fight. Hurting someone like that is like kicking a kitten."

Mirkoku arched an eyebrow.

"What?" she snapped. "A large kitten is still a kitten."

"Well," he let his hands drop into his lap, "I have it on good authority that it is not good for your health to be frustrated. Looks like you already have your lifting gear on. Need a spot?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and he held both hands up again.

"An innocent and genuine offer. I know better than to provoke a woman that is as angry as you are right now."

"Alright, but I you put even one finger out of place –"

"You are free to kick my ass."

Sango decided to finish up her normal circuit before hitting the more serious weights.

"Wow," Miroku helped her rack the weight when she was done. "I never would've guessed that someone your size could lift the way you lift."

"Thanks," she wiped her face with a towel. "I take that as a compliment."

"I meant it as one. Do you always go at it like this?"

"I've always kept a pretty rigorous exercise routine," she allowed, getting the sanitizer and wiping down the weights.

"Any particular reason?" he began doing the same to his equipment.

"My dad. He ran a dojo. Just something my brother and I always did."

"A dojo?" his eyebrows raised. "Did you and your brother compete?"

"Yes."

She focused on wiping down one of the weight machines, hoping that would be the end of the line of questioning. She had grown up competing and loved it. Kohaku loved what they learned but hated to compete. It was something her father had trouble seeing, and had led to some things she'd rather not remember.

She glanced up at one of the mirrors, but Miroku had let the subject drop, and returned to cleaning his equipment thoughtfully.

" _Well he is apparently a successful and serial womanizer,"_ a little voice in her head scoffed. " _He'd have to know at least one or two things about what subjects to and not to broach with women."_

Sango swallowed the voice, and reminded them both that he didn't see her like that – she was his therapist.

But as she took in his reflection, heat rose to her cheeks.

 _"_ _Would it be so bad if he saw me as a woman for once?"_

"So sorry about that!" Hojo bustled back into the room. "Everything is fine," he was quick to assure Sango. "Jinenji is calm, and that tech is in need of a new job."

"Good," she muttered.

"Wish I could disagree," he sighed. "But he wasn't a good fit for this place."

"Well, maybe now he is a good fit for a body cast."

"Almost," Hojo chuckled. "Thanks for covering for me."

"No problem," she grabbed her things. "Good to see you Hojo. Mr. Hoshisama."

"Am I still Mr. Hoshisama before business hours?" Mirkou checked his watch. "Seems like anything before eight in the morning should be on a first name basis."

A playful smile tugged at Sango's lips. "See you at your appointment at ten, Mr. Hoshisama."

"At Ten, Dr. Taijiya."

Sango exited the gym and headed for the locker room, feeling like there had been a small victory somewhere – even if she couldn't quite put her finger on where.


	7. Step Seven

_fried pickles are the best..._

* * *

 **Twelve Steps to You**  
 **Step Seven**

* * *

"I still don't know why I'm here," Kagome looked around nervously.

"I need a cover, and it helps if it is a woman," Miroku adjusted the baseball cap on his head. "And you are the only woman on the planet I know for dead certain won't try and say I made advances toward you, and the only one Sesshomaru will believe I didn't try to make advances toward."

"Gee thanks," she huffed.

"Thanks for being a good sport, Kagome," he draped an arm around her shoulders. "I just need to get in, talk to Mushin, and get out, alright?"

"Alright," she sighed.

Miroku got them seats at an out-of-the-way booth and handed her a menu, watching her eyes glaze over.

"They have fried pickles?"

"Best ones in town," he hid a smile behind his own menu.

"I guess we can stay as long as it takes to make and eat fried pickles."

They put their order in, and soon Kagome was humming to herself as she dipped a pickle spear in ranch dressing.

"Okay. You were right," she sighed happily. "These are amazing."

"Why thank you," Mushin ambled up to the table, vaguely smelling of the rice wine he drank in his office. "They are my own special recipe. Used to make them for this one when he was just a pup."

"Really?" Kagome eyed Miroku. "You used to be a kid?"

Miroku blinked twice.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I dunno," she shrugged, grabbing another pickle. "I can't picture you as anything other than… well…"

"Old enough to like girls?" Mushin asked, knowingly. "His father was the same way."

Kagome giggled while Miroku scowled.

"I hope that isn't what you are telling the people investigating me," he crossed his arms petulantly. "Not the kind of help I need."

"I hear you are already getting the kind of help you need," he snorted. "About time, too. Addiction isn't something to screw around with."

Miroku's eyebrow twitched. "Let me guess. Hachi?"

"Strange little fella, but he's alright. Been real worried about you," he pulled a chair to the end of their booth and perched. "Truth be told, so have I. You're a pain in the ass, but you are a respectful pain in the ass. Why you even paid for that girl's cab that night."

"What girl?" Miroku frowned.

"Eh," Mushin rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't want to muddy the waters by bringing it up, but there was a girl in here the night all that trouble started. You saw her date trying to spike her drink while she was gone. You told me to get her a cab - paid for it, too."

"Wow," Kagome looked between them. "It's like trouble follows you."

"Always has," Mushin snorted, "but this time it wasn't his doing."

"What happened to the guy?"

"You called him out about the drink and told me you were going to help him find the door. It got busy after that, and I lost track of you for a while. I'm guessing that is when that woman made her move."

Miroku frowned. "I don't really remember any of that."

"You were drugged, remember?" Kagome pointed her pickle at him. "You must've been drugged fairly close to all of that for your memory to be affected." She turned to Mushin. "Know about what time that all went down?"

"Mm." he rubbed his chin. "I'd have to check the sales log and security tapes. Or you could check the copies I gave to Hachi."

Miroku narrowed his eyes.

"When did you give those to Hachi?"

"Oh," he rubbed his chin. "Two… three weeks ago? Maybe? It can be hard for an old man to remember."

Kagome frowned at her empty plate.

"Well, if you want to take a minute to look, I'll order more pickles."

"Make it three more orders and to go," Miroku pulled out his wallet. "Along with the rest of our food."

"Suit yourself," Mushin shrugged.

"Be right back," Kagome grinned, and scuttled off to the restroom.

"You sure that is smart, boy?"

"Is what smart?" Miroku counted out the money.

"Letting her eat all of that. She'll be showing soon enough."

Miroku gave a tsk of annoyance.

"Not my woman, not my problem. Besides, neither she nor Inuyasha have mentioned anything to me about her being pregnant. They either don't know yet, or are waiting to say something."

"If you say so," Mushin shrugged and took the cash.

Moments later, they were piled into his car, and Kagome was adjusting the bag of food on her lap.

The thought struck him suddenly.

" _She's going to be a great mother."_

Followed by

" _Holy shit, Inuyasha is going to be a dad…"_

He might've felt a twinge of jealousy, but mostly he was happy for his friends. How could he begrudge them their happiness?

"Oh, wow," Kagome looked into the bag on the drive home. "FOUR orders of pickles?! Must be my lucky day!"

Miroku's smile was small and knowing.

"Must be."

* * *

 _I didn't know you could deep fry a pickle until I moved to the South. Turns out you can deep fry anything. I don't live there anymore, but I do know the places around here with the best fried pickles - a favorite even when not pregnant._


	8. Step Eight

_The most important 'role' in my life - long before mother, or wife or even daughter - was that of 'sister.' The sibling bond between Sango and Kohaku is one of my favorite relationships in anime - any anime - across the board. - GL_

* * *

 **Twelve Steps to You**  
 **Step Eight**

* * *

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or am I supposed to guess?"

"Nothing's wrong," Sango blinked up at her brother. "Why would you think there was?"

"Because you almost added a cup of salt instead of sugar. To cookie batter."

"What? No I didn't – I," she blinked and studied the measuring cup, a few shakes of being full, and the salt container in her hands, pour-spout open. "Omigosh I did…"

"So," Kohaku took the salt and cup from her. "What's up?"

"Just… just tired, I guess."

"Is that it? Tired?" he found a funnel and started to pour the salt back into the container. "Because I've seen you tired before – and this looks like more than tired."

"Maybe a little stressed," she admitted. "Nothing to get totally upset about or anything."

"Hm," he hummed noncommittally and pushed a chair out for her. "Take a load off for a second."

Sango sank into the seat at her own kitchen table, blinking away her fatigue.

"Not sleeping?"

"Had a few rough nights," she admitted while he poured her a cup of coffee.

"Any particular reason?"

"I've got a patient that has had a rough time lately, and its translated into some late-night calls. She is trying really hard to get her life in order, and is frightened of relapsing."

"Is she a good candidate for rehab?"

"She could be," the crease between her eyebrows deepened. "I'll send her if I really think she needs to go, but she has made so much progress. If she goes into rehab she'll fall behind on everything – she could lose her job, her apartment - but if she doesn't…"

"She could relapse," he finished, putting the coffee on the table for her.

Sango nodded.

"You'll figure it out," he squeezed her shoulder. "You always do - she's lucky to have you, you know that?"

"Thanks," she gave him a small smile, wrapping her fingers around the warmth of the mug. "I think I needed to hear that - to trust myself."

"Pretty much the only thing you'll ever hear from me," he winked.

Sango smiled into her mug and took a sip.

"Wow… that's really good," she blinked. "What kind is this?"

"It's a blend Rin makes," he poured his own cup. "Her dad is a high-powered business type, so she started making it for him."

"Is it just her and her dad?"

"Yeah. He adopted her when she was really little. She says that is why she loves to do things in the kitchen – she didn't have much before he adopted her, and food was scarce. It started out as a way to repay him for sharing his food with her."

"How old was she?"

"Not very," Kohaku hedged. "Anyway, it's just the two of them. And some of her dad's staff that's been around for forever."

"She's a nice girl," Sango looked at her coffee. "She'll make someone very happy someday."

"She deserves to be happy. Thing is…" Kohaku flushed furiously. "I kind of… I think…I really to be the one to make her happy…" he trailed off, meeting his sister's eyes tentatively. "If she'd let me."

"Wow," Sango breathed.

"Yeah," his smile was crooked. "Not sure if she feels the same way, though."

"Have you talked about it?"

"Not yet," he rubbed the back of his neck. "The way I figure, whatever it is I can do to make her happy should be something I can do even if we aren't, you know, _together,_ together. I mean, if I care enough about her to want her to be happy, then that shouldn't change if we start dating or not."

"I get the feeling you weren't talking about just dating," Sango ventured quietly.

He shrugged.

"I'd like to make her happy as long as she'll let me. It'd be great if that was for the next sixty years or so. But so much has been taken from her – so much stuff wasn't on her terms. It's only worth it if it's what she chooses."

"I knew it," Sango thunked her head on the table.

Kohaku frowned.

"Knew what? That I lov-um… _really_ like Rin?"

"That. And that there is a perfect man out there, and of course it would be my brother. Do you have any idea how unfair that is, on the universal level?"

Kohaku's grin was small.

"So…so you're okay with this?"

"What, with you falling in love with possibly the nicest girl on the planet, and having the most psychologically healthy view on relationships I've ever encountered? Yeah," she snorted. "I'm more than okay with it. So, how're you going to tell her?"

"Not sure," he shrugged. "Figured I'd just stick with the 'make her happy' plan until I thought of something better."

"Ask her to a movie?"

"We go sometimes. But with our schedules we usually we just end up at one of our places and watching something."

"Ask her to dinner?"

"We kinda eat together a bunch already."

"Take her somewhere special?"

"We did go to that show she'd been wanting to see," he mused. "I have tickets for another one in a few months…"

"Kohaku."

"Hm?"

"You spend most of your time together. You eat together. You make plans to do things together. I'd bet money you crash at each other's places now and then?"

His ears were red.

"Yes, but nothing has ever happened. Hugs maybe, maybe a friendly kiss goodbye, but no making out or anything like that."

"Congratulations. You're already dating."

"What? No – we-"

"That is what dating is, Kohaku," she put her chin in her hand. "You're respecting each other's boundaries, but you're already dating."

"But… but I never asked her. We've never agreed to anything. She could hang out with anyone the way she hangs out with me."

"And does she?"

"Well…no. Not really."

"And have other people asked her to?"

"I…I don't know?"

Sango smiled and shook her head.

"I am comforted to know that you are perfect and perfectly clueless."

"Not _perfectly_ clueless," he countered. "I know how much I care about her."

"That's true," Sango's smile was kind. "Just… one word of advice, okay?"

Kohaku watched her hand cover his.

"Tell her. Do it on your own terms, and in your own time, but tell her how you feel. You'll regret it if you don't."

He read the sorrow behind her smile, and dipped his head.

"Yeah," he covered her hand with his own. "Okay."

"I think I'm awake enough to finish that recipe now," she squeezed his hand. "Should we give it another go?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Sis," he stood and kissed her head. "You're really the best."

" _No,"_ she thought. " _You're the one who is the best. I'm lucky to be your sister."_


	9. Step Nine

_"When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn." – Harriet Beecher Stowe_

* * *

 **Twelve Steps to You**  
 **Step Nine**

* * *

Sango was having a terrible morning.

She'd had another night of bad sleep, woke up late, raced to the metro (her car was in the shop), discovered that the metro stop nearest her home was closed for repairs, just managed to get to the next stop in time, but couldn't wait for the connecting bus, so she ran the rest of the way to work while hauling her her work and gym bags, all while it was raining like crazy.

She could only be kindly described as a hot mess as she raced to the side entrance at work, just as Miroku ambled up with his gym bag over his shoulder, and a drink carrier with two hot teas.

"Looks like you need this more than I do," he handed her one of the drinks as they stepped inside. "And here I bought these as penance for running late this morning."

"You're not the only one," she grimaced, fumbling for her badge and keys to get them through various security checkpoints. Her phone began to ring, and she growled in frustration.

"For the love of - !"

"Here," Miroku calmly reached for her tea and bags, freeing up her hands.

She gave him a quick 'thank you' glance, before answering "Dr. Taijiya speaking."

Her frustrated posture shifted immediately as she stood taller, eyes darting around. "What? When?! Where are you – did-"

She turned wide, horror-struck eyes to Miroku, and every fiber of his being was on instant alert.

"I'm coming right now. Hang up and call 911. Don't touch anything. If the paramedics get there first, do whatever they tell you, and tell them everything you know. No, it won't get her in trouble, and if you don't tell them what they need to know she can die. Do you understand me?"

She gave a terse nod.

"I'll be there as fast as I can."

She hung up and began to pat her pockets for her keys.

"I am sorry – I have to go – one of my patients overdosed, and-"

"Let's go," he headed for the doors. "I'll drive you."

"What? No you can't I-"

"Have no car, and no way to get there without me and this is an emergency," he met her eyes sternly. "So, let's go."

Together they darted back through the rain into his subtly expensive SUV.

"Wow," she looked at the black leather interior and high-tech dash. "I think I'm in the wrong line of work."

They arrived before the ambulance – but the sirens indicated it wasn't far away. Miroku followed as Sango bypassed the broken elevator and raced up the stairs of the aging building to her patient's apartment. The door was already open, and a young man was pacing the small apartment living area.

"She's in here," he motioned the grimly. "I found her on the floor next to her bed. I put her in her bed, but…"

His words stuck in his throat, and Sango immediately began checking the girl's pulse.

"She's been doing so well," he blurted defensively. "Something must've happened if she relapsed."

Miroku looked the young man over.

"What's your name?"

"Shippou," he jammed his hands pockets. "And that's Satsuki. You're Dr. Taijiya, right?"

"That's her," Miroku answered smoothly. "How do you know Satsuki?"

"We work together. I live just a few floors down. I came up to give her a ride to work, but she didn't answer when I knocked, or when I called her phone. I..." he flicked a glance at him and swallowed. "She gave me a key. In case she... in case something..." he let the implication hang in the air between them before clearing his throat to continue. "When she didn't answer, I let myself in. I found her on on the floor. Moved her up there," he motioned to the unconscious girl on the bed.

"And have you moved anything?" Miroku looked around the room, his eyes landing on the spilled bottle of pills, and empty pill bottles on the floor.

Shippou followed his gaze and guessed his line of thought.

"That's where I found her."

"And... the pill bottles?"

"They were there."

"And the green bowl?" he nodded to the overturned bowl on the carpet.

"I nearly stepped on a needle; couldn't see it on the carpet. I didn't want to touch it so I put the bowl over top."

He fisted his hands at his sides.

"Look, I know what it looks like but there has to be a mistake," he blurted. "Satsuki told me about what happened to her, and her brother being a POW-MIA, and the drugs, and I don't believe she would relapse – not when she's come so far. Not when there's been news that he might actually have been found."

"We have to see what the tox screens say," Sango finally turned around. "But I hope you are right, Shippou."

"Is she going to be okay?" his voice strained with worry as the sounds of arriving paramedics echoed up the stairwell.

"We're going to do everything we can to make sure she is," she put a hand on his arm. "And for us, that means telling the paramedics everything we know."

Shippo clenched his jaw, but nodded.

* * *

They were on their way to the hospital, following behind the ambulance.

"You don't have to stay," Sango said, watching the rain-drenched world outside of her window. "You've already done so much."

Miroku hesitated.

"Is it alright if I stay?"

"I suppose," she gave a half shrug.

There was no more conversation on the way to the hospital. Sango changed in the women's restroom, hiding a breaking heart behind a professional veneer. When she emerged dressed for work, Miroku met her in the waiting room, also changed and dry. He left to bring their things to the car, returning with her laptop bag and two steaming to-go cups.

"Here," he handed her a fresh cup of tea. "You never got to drink the first one."

"Thanks," she offered a small smile.

Miroku was quiet for a moment.

"I don't think she OD'd," he finally offered.

"No?"

"No," he shook his head. "I think she knocked over those pills – I checked the date on the bottle, and it was dated five days ago. As near as I could tell, only five of them were missing. The other bottles were much older, but for the same prescription. And there was a sharps disposal box under her kitchen sink, and very little food in her refrigerator. I'm betting she went into a diabetic coma."

"That is my guess, or, more accurately, my hope," Sango admitted. "But she's had concerns lately. There have been reports of her brother being found before – this latest one is a patient with a recovering memory. It could be a trick, or it could be a mistake –"

"But it could be true," Miroku offered.

"Either way, she was under a lot of stress, and frightened of relapsing," Sango sighed. "I can't rule out the possibility of an overdose. Not yet."

"You've done all you can, Sango," he offered quietly. "Now it's up to her and the doctors."

"I know," Sango nodded leaning back on the chair with a sigh. Suddenly weary beyond all belief, she couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

They fell silently and in rapid succession.

Miroku quietly took her tea and put it on the table at his elbow. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders still shaking silently.

He draped his coat around her shoulders.

"It's alright, Sango," he murmured. "It's alright to cry."

A sob escaped her then, and she felt her composure crack.

Miroku put an arm around her shoulder and held her close, letting her sob into the handful of tissues she'd pulled from somewhere.

She didn't know how long she cried, and she didn't want to know what she looked like once everything slowed to a messy drip. With a few shuddering, heaving breaths, she dried her eyes, dimly registering the weight of an arm around her shoulders.

The same arm shifted across the back of her chair as she leaned back, exhausted and blinking up at the ceiling. She turned her head and regarded him wearily.

"Think we can reschedule today's session?"

He gave a small chuckle and held up his phone.

"The secretary already sent me a text, and changed the appointment."

"Thank you," her smile was wan but sincere, tears still beaded on her long lashes. "I don't know what I would've done without your help today."

"I'm glad I was here," he admitted. "Satsuki sounds like someone that deserves a solid second chance."

"She is," Sango nodded once. "I just hope she gets it."

"She's lucky to have you," he handed her back her tea. "I guess... we all are."

He held her gaze then, the tug of a new and tenuous gravity drawing him closer to her.

But before he could succumb to physics the nurse arrived and asked for Dr. Taijiya.

She cleared her throat and stood, trepidation clear in every stroke of her being.

"That's me," she clutched at the coat around her shoulders.

"The patient would like to see you."

"She...is she..."

The nurse smiled, and stepped to the side.

"Come see."

Sango began to follow, but stopped to slip Miroku's jacket off of her shoulders, and hand it back to him, something tenuous on her lips, and fragile hope in her eyes.

"I'll mind the things," he took his coat, and gave her an encouraging slip of a smile. "Go on."

He watched as she bricked her resolve into place, and followed after the nurse.

Miroku raked a hand down his face.

"You're a helluva woman, Dr. Taijiya," he shook his head. "Too good for anyone I know."

* * *

Shippou was sitting at Satsuki's bedside, her hand in his.

"Dr. Taijiya," she smiled weakly, trying to sit up.

"No, don't" Sango hurried to sit by her side. "How are you feeling, Satsuki?"

"I didn't OD," Satsuki was quick to assure her. "I… I didn't eat, and I was trying to get to my insulin, and then I passed out, and-

"And you went into a diabetic coma," Sango finished. "This might be the only time I've ever been relieved to hear that kind of news."

"Yeah," Satsuki chuckled. "That makes two of us. Good thing I've talked to Shippou about you," she turned eyes full of admiration on the young man sitting next to her. "He knew just who to call."

He shrugged, cheeks flushed.

"Well, it was either her or Ghostbusters, and I didn't see their number in your phone."

Satsuki grinned at him warmly.

"I can't thank you – either of you enough," she put a hand on Sango's arm. "And knowing that you both believed in me – well. That says so much to me."

"I am so proud of you," Sango squeezed her hand. "When you get out of here, I want you to call me so we can discuss some other options. You can't neglect your other health concerns, Satsuki."

"She won't," Shippou promised. "Her lease was up anyway. She's moving into my place for a while, and I always have food in the fridge."

Sango felt a strange tightening in her chest as the young woman stared up at her friend with a special sort of admiration.

"Then you can both come," Sango stood. "Let's make today the last time we meet like this, alright?"

"I second that," Shippou snorted.

Satsuki just nodded, her eyes and throat full of grateful tears.

Sango stepped back to the waiting room where Miroku waited for her. She caught him up on the situation.

"Company policy; Appointments cancelled for 24 hours following a patient incident, but I am on call. They said my car will be ready today; you can just drop me at the shop."

"I don't know about you," he eyed the time, "but I am starving. What do you say to something to eat and a quasi-therapy session?"

"Not sure that is ethical," she gave a small laugh.

"How about a date?"

"Definitely not ethical."

"So, just lunch it is," he shrugged. "All conversation will be light and impersonal."

"Just light," Sango grinned at his teasing. "Doesn't have to be impersonal."

It turned out they had a favorite restaurant in common, and Miroku knew for a fact that his would-be stalker didn't ever go there.

They were almost at the end of the meal when the call came through that her car was ready.

"Thanks again for everything," Sango smiled gently as he held the umbrella and walked her to the door. "I'm pretty sure we pushed every boundary of propriety ever, but you really came through for all of us today."

"Oh, I'd say there are a fair few boundaries we didn't even glimpse," Miroku's lips curled into a teasing grin, "but I am glad to have been here just the same."

"All this good behavior, and you won't need me, soon," Sango beamed.

"I'm a desperate man, Dr. Taijiya. I could slip at any moment."

"You have my number."

"I do," he watched her flush crimson.

"You know what I meant," she pouted. "Don't be weird."

"Now, now," he chided. "We don't call our addiction driven predilections 'weird.' We recognize them, isolate them, and try to modify our behavior."

"Well at least you listen in our sessions," she muttered.

"I'm fairly certain I've heard everything you've ever had to say Dr. Taijiya."

She looked up, something in his tone snagging her. When he met her eyes, there was something there – something different in his gentle smile, and easy manner. Something like …admiration, maybe.

"If something happens and you need a ride," he handed her the umbrella. "Let me know."

"Thanks," she ignored the warmth of his hand on hers, noting he didn't prolong it. "I appreciate it. I'll see you at your next appointment. Day after tomorrow."

"Until then," he nodded. "Take care, Sango."

She considered him for a long moment before replying

"Take care…Miroku."

His wave was small as he stepped back into the rain, and drove away. She watched until his taillights were gone from sight, and the sound of her heart no longer roared in her ears.


	10. Step Ten

_family is the most important thing_

* * *

 **Twelve Steps to You**  
 **Step Ten**

* * *

The news hadn't been unexpected. Still, seeing Kagome and Inuyasha so excited about becoming parents as they celebrated with some of their friends made something twist in his gut.

"I can hardly believe it," Kagome's grandfather wept openly. "A new generation to continue the line of the Higurashi priests! We'll have to start training right away – as soon as the baby is born – we – "

"Grandpa, calm down!" Kagome said, exasperated. "We don't even know what the baby's gender is!"

"Don't mind your grandfather, Kagome," her mother beamed. "He's still trying to recruit Sota."

"Good luck with that," Inuyasha snorted. "Hey!" he flinched as he yanked back a newly smacked hand. "Whadd'you do that for?"

"Those are Miroku's gift to the baby," she said hotly, pulling the to-go container of fried pickles closer. "You don't get any."

"That's right," Miroku chimed in. "And they come with Mushin's compliments and best wishes."

Kagome grinned at him before sticking her tongue out at Inuyasha.

"Oh, real mature," he muttered.

"I feel like there is a pot/kettle comparison to be had here," Sesshomaru said smoothly.

"Save my cousin some room for dessert," Rin grinned. "I brought some of its favorites."

"Best. Niece. Ever," Kagome sighed happily, dipping another pickle.

Miroku excused himself to get a drink.

"You with the happy group?"

He glanced over to the woman leaning on the bar, all long legs and heavy breasts, and inviting smiles.

He nodded, focusing on the list of bottled beers rather than answering.

"Doesn't look like you have a date," she pressed.

"Not tonight," he raised one shoulder, only half listening. He had made a point to stick to bottled beverages since the incident at Mushin's, and that meant beer. He could really go for something stronger and on the rocks, but it might not end well.

"Well in that case,"

"I'm seeing someone," he said bluntly. "Sorry."

"Oh," she quirked an eyebrow. "Well that's a shame. I was hoping to see more of you later. Much more."

"Sorry to disappoint," he shrugged. Thankfully the bartender came over for his order, and she shrugged off his refusal.

"Another time, maybe," she winked, left money for her drink, and sauntered out.

"Seeing somebody, huh?"

"Mm," Miroku flicked a glance at Inuyasha. "Several times a week. Like clockwork."

"Guess that's not a lie," Inuyasha's grin was slow. "Does the Doc know you use her to deter other women?"

"Considering that is part of the premise of my being under her care, I suspect she wouldn't mind."

"Fair enough," he signaled the bartender for another drink, and he brought it back with Miroku's beer.

Miroku eyed Inuyasha; his lack of follow up jerk commentary made Miroku suspicious.

"What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"It's not like you to drop something that quickly. So, what?"

"Meh," he shrugged. "No fun riling you up when I know you're actually going through shit."

"When has that ever stopped you?"

"I know you've always wanted a family," Inuyasha said quietly. "And I know that no matter how much we tease you about being a lecher – which you are – you were never an asshole about it. You'd never do something without consent. Wouldn't help so much on the 'eventually I want kids' thing. Which makes me think maybe you should quit looking in bars and all the wrong places."

"Sure," he pried the cap off of his beer. "So, where are the right places?"

"Beats me," he shrugged. "But it ain't at bars. Maybe at a gym."

Miroku tried not to think of Sango's lithe, well-muscled form when they went over a Tai-Chi meditation two days ago.

"Maybe," he checked the time. "You'd better get back to Kagome – I'll be over in a minute."

"Don't skip out on us, you bastard – I'll never hear the end of it."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good," he grunted. "Because if being a dad means getting dragged to a bunch of family events, then I want to make damned sure there is some family there I can stand."

Miroku thought he'd see something petulant on his friend's face, but there was a depth and sincerity he often forgot he was capable of.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it. Ever."

"Uncle Inuyasha? Miroku?"

"Rin?" Inuyasha's eyebrows raised. "What're you doing out here? Is Kagome alright?"

"She's fine. I was in such a hurry to get across town, I came without my gift," she frowned.

You mean the cake, cookies and all of that other stuff wasn't your gift?"

"Of course not," she scoffed. "Those were for Aunt Kagome – and sort of for you, since I made a bunch of her recent cravings to spare you the drive."

"You _are_ the best niece ever."

"Remember that," she grinned. "And be nice."

"Nice?" he eyed her warily. "Why _nice?_ "

"There you are," Rin waved. "Have any trouble finding it?"

"No," a young man walked up to join them. "It was right where you said it would be."

"I can't believe I forgot it," she sighed. "Don't know where my mind is today."

"Pretty sure it was here already," he looked around before holding the bag out to her. "You were sort of excited about everything."

"Rin?" Inuyasha's eyes were glued to the young man. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, yes, sorry," she took the present and half dragged half shoved her friend forward.

"Kohaku, this my Uncle Inuyasha and his friend Miroku. Guys, this is Kohaku."

"Mm-hm," Inuyasha took the offered hand. "And exactly where did you leave the present behind?"

"At Kohaku's," she continued, not noticing the stiffening of her uncle's spine. "I needed more space to do all of my baking, and didn't want to use dad's kitchen. Kohaku let me come over and use his!"

"And the gift got there, how?"

"Brought it in to wrap it," she sighed. "Then bagged it and put it somewhere safe so I wouldn't forget it, and then - "

"Forgot it," Inuyasha looked between her and Kohaku suspiciously. "Yeah, I figured that part out."

"You look familiar to me, Kohaku," Miroku studied him. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so," he smiled pleasantly.

"He's a fellow therapy graduate student," Rin smiled up at him. "Not much time for meeting anyone."

"True," he agreed, "But I welcome the opportunity, Mr…"

"Hoshisama," Miroku shook his hand. "But Miroku is fine, Kohaku…?"

"Taijiya," he supplied.

"Taijiya?" Miroku repeated, the pieces shifting very quickly into place.

"You know the name?" Inuyasha glanced at him.

"You might've heard of his dad's Dojo," Rin offered. "A few national champions came out of there, including his sister, Sango."

"Oh yeah," Inyasha rubbed his chin. "I remember that name. You fight too, kid?"

"I train but, don't compete anymore," she shook his head. "Sometimes I help with the smaller children. Sango, though – she'll train kids for competition now and then. If they're serious about it."

"Huh," Inuyasha rubbed the back of his head. "That name is really familiar, isn't it, Miroku?"

Miroku side-eyed his friend, almost disappointed to see that he absolutely wasn't pretending to not know the name.

"I hate to keep you," he said to Rin kindly. "I'd better let you get back to your family."

"Inuyasha?" Kagome came out. "Oh there you are – where have you…? Hello?" she took them all in, especially Kohaku.

"Aunt Kagome, this is my friend Kohaku," Rin flicked a look between the boy and her aunt in a message she hadn't bothered trying to share with her uncle.

"Ohhhh, Kohaku?" she extended her hand. "I've heard so much about you!"

"You have?" Inuyasha eyed her surprised.

"Of course, silly," Kagome waved Inuyasha away. "He's a friend of Rin's. Have you seen the cake that Rin made? Or the other things?

"Well, actually, I, - "

Kagome linked her arm through his and dragged him off. "There is so much food, you'll have to come and eat some. Any friend of Rin's is a friend of ours."

Kohaku shot Rin a helpless shrug, and she mouthed 'right behind you.'

"So…," Inuyasha eyed his niece. "Kohaku, huh?"

"Remember," she grinned. "Be nice."

"I'm not the one you have to worry about," Inuyasha snorted. "Your dad's in there. Hope you didn't expect to see Kohaku ever again."

"Why," she shrugged. "He's my friend, not my boyfriend."

"But don't you like him? Like, _like him_ like him – the kind of like him that makes your Aunt interfere like crazy?"

"Yeah," her smile was lopsided. "I really do. Not sure if he feels the same way, though. If he survives tonight, I'll ask and find out."

"If he survives?" Miroku blinked.

"No sense in being with anyone that can't handle my family, right?" she shrugged.

"Wow," Inuyasha shook his head. "Never thought I'd see the day you'd throw someone to the wolves."

"I'm not," she smiled gently. "I'm introducing him to the people I love best. Better go. Remember – "

"I know, I know. Be nice."

Rin gave a small wave and trotted off after her Aunt and back to the party.

Miroku looked at Inuyasha.

"Think she forgot the gift on purpose?"

"Yup."

"And picked a place her father would have to behave, and let your wife railroad him into being that way in front of Kohaku?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"So, we should probably get in there before Sesshomaru _actually_ kills him."

"Way ahead of you," he grabbed several more unopened beers and paid the bartender. "Let's go try and protect this kid from my asshole brother and my pregnant wife."

"Wow… Kagome in interrogation mode," Miroku took one of proffered bottles. "You sure Rin likes this kid?"

"Sink or swim, Miroku," Inuyasha shrugged. "If you're not all in, you're out."

Miroku tumbled back into the fray, those words echoing in his mind.

They tugged at something he was just beginning to have words for.

He was worried he was too fucked up – too fickle to be all in.

Which meant he'd always be out.

And the only person who made him think he could maybe change his mind - the one that made him want to be a better person – the one that made him turn away the woman earlier without even a twinge of attraction toward her…

…was the person he couldn't approach.

He watched Rin and Kohaku.

"At least you've got a shot, kid," he murmured, watching him look at Rin with an open sort of affection. "that's more than I think I know how to have."


	11. Step Eleven

_One more chapter, friends. So glad you are here!_

* * *

 **Twelve Steps to You**  
 **Step Eleven**

* * *

"I hear you met my brother this weekend," Sango said breezily at their next session.

"I did," he nodded. "Although I hope you will forgive me for not mentioning that we are acquainted."

"I wouldn't expect you to," she gave an understanding smile. "Just as I did not mention that I know you, either. Not that I would've had a chance," her smile grew. "He was so excited to tell me how nice a time he had. Off the record," she leaned forward conspiratorially, "– because this is hardly within the purview of our sessions – but he genuinely cares about Rin a very great deal."

"Well that much was obvious," Miroku said easily. "Even her father was put at ease, and that is no mean feat, I assure you."

"So I gather," she chuckled. "But according to Kohaku, she's worth it. He's a quiet, gentle soul, but he never turns his back on the people he cares about."

"He clearly cares for you a great deal," Miroku ventured. "You came up in conversation multiple times."

"And how did you handle that environment?" she flipped open her file, pencil in hand. "I know you've mentioned avoiding bars and the like."

"I was at the bar when I met Kohaku, but I spent the majority of my time with our group in the smaller room reserved for my friends' party."

"And were there any problems when you ventured to the bar area? Or through the restaurant proper?"

"Not really."

"Anything triggering about the bar area? Anything that made you uneasy?"

"It being a bar was secondary to it being a special evening for my friends," he shrugged. "And I have very little problem controlling my alcohol intake," he mentally added " _presuming I'm not drugged…"_

"Well that is good to hear," she scribbled a few notes.

"There was…there was one thing."

She looked up, pencil poised.

"A woman. At the bar. She was soliciting my company."

"I see," she sat back in her chair. "And how did you respond?"

"Honestly, I wasn't that interested. I said as much from the get go, and she left me alone."

"Was she offering interest, or offering sex?"

Miroku did his best not to smirk, with moderate success.

"Sex was clearly on the table."

"And... you found you weren't interested?" she said, her voice carefully neutral. When he nodded, she smiled.

"Miroku, that is fantastic!"

"I guess it is something," he shrugged again.

"It's better than something," she jotted down more notes. "It's progress. Now. Tell me. What about the situation supported this decision. Was it the thought of leaving family and friends, was it an aversion to the offer itself?"

He felt heat creep up the back of his neck.

"I..uh.."

"I have to ask," she was quick to assure him. "Knowing more about how you achieved success helps us promote further success. If you only said no to be with family, that is still valid; it shows you putting those you care about over your addiction. If you had an objection to the person in particular, it shows developing discrimination in tastes, which is part of breaking apart the addiction."

Miroku tried not to sigh at that… or not being able to argue that he already had discriminating tastes – and they were getting more particular by the day.

"Probably both," he considered. "I wouldn't have wanted to upset any of my friends, and while there was nothing wrong with the woman per se, she was very clear with her intentions and I was clear with mine."

"What was said exactly."

Miroku repeated his excuses.

"A fake relationship is fine if that helps," she tapped her pencil on her paper. "But you don't want to fall back on that sort of thing too often."

"I didn't lie," he kept his face very straight. "And I didn't say I was in a relationship. I said I was seeing someone. Which I am."

She cocked her head to the side, confused.

"It's by appointment," he allowed, "but the fact remains I still see someone regularly."

Sango laughed then. "Clever! Very clever! All in all you did well!"

"Thanks," he rubbed the back of his neck, "Although I don't think I will be returning to the bar scene any time soon."

"Probably a good idea," she gave a wry smirk. "You're not missing much."

"Oh?"

"Well I suppose it depends what you are looking for - although as a therapist to a recovering nymphomaniac, I can't ethically recommend it."

"So as a non-nymphomaniac, why do you go?"

She sat back in her seat, a small smile on her lips.

"I don't really. I go with friends now and then because they ask me to. I might agree to meet someone there. But I don't spend much time in bars."

Miroko considered her. "Mm. You don't look the type for it. I doubt I would've run into you at Mushin's."

"Oddly enough," her smile tipped at the corners, "I was there not that long ago. In fact, it was the weekend before your first session came here."

"You were?" his brows drew together.

"Yes," she gave a small laugh. "That was the night Kagewaki was called away"

"And he left you at the bar," Miroku finished. "The one that sent you flowers?

"The one I'm meeting up with Friday night," she corrected, leaning her chin in her hand.

"Better go after eight. Mushin's drink specials and food are better then."

"Decided to try somewhere else. Variety and the spice of life and all of that."

"I see," he considered her. "Dinner and perhaps drinks after? Or are you more of a dancing sort of person."

"I can be," her smile was small.

He caught sight of the small clock on her desk.

"I'd best be off," he stood, gathering his things. "My time ended ten minutes ago."

"I am sorry," she stood as well. "I didn't mean to keep you."

"Not at all," he paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder.

"Until next time, Dr. Taijiya."

She blinked and nodded.

"Until next time, Mr. Hoshisama."

The door closed between them - faint traces of regret on either side.

* * *

It was Friday and Miroku was going through the files piece by piece. It had been fairly obvious from the beginning that this woman had to have an accomplice or accomplices. For one thing, several of her victims were too large for her have moved without help– and even Miroku couldn't say for sure if she'd moved him alone. For another, she gathered comprehensive information on her victims of the ilk that it was unlikely she'd compiled it herself.

As time wore on, Sesshomaru and Miroku were of the mind that the victims might be more intertwined than initially suspected; that perhaps this woman was more the means to eliminating professional competition than an individual operator.

 _"There is a commonality to these victims that you don't fit," Sesshomaru had mused, eyeing the different files. "Moreover, I believe that this woman isn't the one in charge - not really."_

 _"I'm inclined to agree," Miroku agreed_.

 _"I've set someone to watch her, and to monitor her communications. If this is an interconnected matter, then we need to bring them all down at once - preferably in court. Until then, continue as you have."_

Miroku was growing tired of "continuing." He was ready to progress, and get closer to ending the charade.

The more he thought about it, the more he was certain he wasn't originally intended to be one of this woman's victims. If he didn't fit her target profile, then perhaps it was the person giving her her orders that had a problem with him.

Unfortunately that didn't limit the list of suspects. If anything, it broadened the search enormously.

He sat in his office, his files spread out before him.

"So why me," he mused aloud. He glanced at the stack of surveillance DVD's. "Perhaps your accomplice was there," he reached for one. "If I can see who helped you, I might know who hired you..."

He searched the surveillance tapes from Mushin's, this time starting earlier, to see if anyone arrived with the woman, or spoke to her, or perhaps even helped her get him out of the bar, as he remembered very little of the evening. Sesshomaru had found a way to get the tapes from adjoining venues as well, including the corner shop that had the small parking lot on camera.

He kept careful notes on who he saw entering, matching descriptions and screenshots to time stamps, and anyone that spoke to the woman in question.

Suddenly, there was a face he recognized.

"Enter, the Doctor," his grin was faint.

Sango walked in hesitantly, clearly looking for someone. A man waved for her to join him in a booth near the bar, she smiled, and crossed the room.

Miroku was speaking with Inuyasha and Kagome, and his back was to the door. In short order they left and he sat alone with his drink.

"Shame," he murmured, watching the other man get up and go to the bar to get drinks for himself and Sango. "Maybe things would've been different if I had seen her come in….Hang on…"

He paused the video and checked from several other angles.

"Son of a bitch!"

He grabbed his phone and immediately called Hachi, eyes on the clock.

He scrambled to send an email and find a phone number before jumping into his car, his nerve endings on fire.

When his call went straight to voicemail, he set his jaw firmly.

"Time to pull in some favors."

* * *

Sango was having a lovely evening, and her date was nothing but charming. Kagewaki was kind, attentive, and soft spoken.

"I am so sorry about before," he said, watching her over his glass of wine. "You see, my father has been unwell, and I had gotten the call that he had been taken to the hospital. I should have called," he flushed faintly, "but by the time I had a moment, I was so embarrassed, and I-"

"Please," she put a warm, sure hand over his. "Don't give it another thought. Family comes first."

"You have family then?"

"I have a brother," her smile was fond. "Our parents died when we were children, but we are very close."

"Does he live with you?"

"No," she shook her head. "He is a grad student. Physical Therapy."

"You are proud of him."

"Very," she smiled.

"I never had a sibling," his lips turned down ever so slightly. "Sadly, I am an only child. I have a handful of close associates, but no family, and few friends. I admit," his smile was bittersweet. "I am quite jealous."

"Well then," she held up her glass to his. "To new friends."

"Yes," his eyes raked over her warmly, drawing out a blush. "To new… _friends._ "

* * *

He wasn't sure where the memory came from, but he knew with every fiber of his being that it was real.

He knew what had started that fight at Mushin's.

He had seen Sango on her date; he'd spotted her from his relocated seat at the bar. Had she not been with someone, he would've sent her a drink and invited her to join him. (He knew now that she would've politely refused.)

Their meal finished, they were moving to sit at the bar - but she received a call. She left, and her date ordered their drinks, saving her a seat.

And that is when he saw him slip something in her drink.

He'd walked over and picked up her drink, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

"Get rid of this will you, Mushin? I'll see her date out - put her cab on my bill."

He faced her date – a man he now knew was called Kagewaki, – his tone cooler than the ice clinking in the other man's glass.

"I like a warm and willing woman as much as the next man," he said idly, "but there are better ways to go about it."

"It is dangerous to meddle in the affairs of others," Kagewaki sipped his scotch before setting it on the bar. "I suggest minding your own business and returning to your seat."

"I think I just made this my business," Miroku said cheerfully, grabbing the other man hauling him to the patio area he knew to be closed for the season.

When he tried to retaliate, Mirkou punched him. Hard.

"That was a mistake," Kagewaki stood nonchalantly, dusting himself off. He looked Miroku over. "I'm going to make sure you regret that."

He'd walked away without another word.

The camera feed revealed that not long after, the woman that would later accuse him of sexual harassment spiked his drink.

It was the security feed they'd gotten from the store next door that showed her hauling a very drugged Miroku to her car, where Kakgewaki was waiting. The memory came back clearly.

"I told you you'd regret this," he curled his fingers in the collar of his shirt. "And this is only the beginning."

He and another man roughed Miroku up before tossing him in the car, and letting the woman drive him away.

Kagewaki was in on the whole thing.

The same Kagewaki that was alone with Sango.

"C'mon, c'mon," he muttered, as the ring of his phone echoed in the hands free. "Pick up, Sango!"

" _Hi. You've reached Doctor Taijiya. If this is an emergency, please hang up, and dial nine-nine-_ "

Miroku hung up impatiently and answered far too fast when his phone rang a second later.

"Sango?"

 _"Nice try, but no."_

"Inuyasha – what do we hear?"

 _"They arrested the woman, but they can't find this Kagewaki person you're worried about."_

"He is with San.. Dr. Taijiya. I am sure of it."

 _"Well Sesshomaru's people say that they figured out where they went to dinner, but are gone now. We don't know where they – what?"_ His voice was muffled as he turned away from the phone, and there was the sound of irritated muttering before Kagome came on the line.

 _"Miroku? You still there?"_

"I'm here."

 _"I called down to the precinct; Kouga tells me that this lady took previous victims to a place called the 'Spider's Den' for after-drinks, nearly every time. I'm sending directions!"_

"Alright," Miroku's resolve hardened. "I'm on my way."


	12. Step Twelve

_Final chapter - thank you for coming along!_

* * *

 **Twelve Steps to You**  
 **Step Twelve**

* * *

Miroku's first session with Sango had segued into a sort of "welcome to nymphomania" mini-orientation. She'd given him her emergency number as well as several others should he need immediate help. She'd explained that if she was unable to answer for any reason, he was to make his way through the numbers as listed. Since he wasn't in apparent danger of substance abuse, his emergency number list consisted of local resources like other counselors, taxi cabs, and places to go once he got in those taxi cabs.

" _Someone can always get a hold of me,"_ she'd assured him warmly. " _Never feel like you're alone."_

Unfortunately, they never covered what to do if he thought she was the one in trouble.

So far he'd dialed almost every number he could, and by the third person trying to walk him through his "crisis" and assure him that he didn't need Dr. Taijiya to get through this, he'd almost lost his last shred of self control. He hung up on the person reciting mantras (that were now annoyingly running through his mind like a vicious yet zen earworm) and called Kagome.

" _Did you find her?"_

 _"_ Stuck in traffic," he grimaced. "No luck getting a hold of her. She is officially of duty - someone else is covering her cases today in the event of an emergency."

" _She doesn't seem the type to not answer her phone,_ " her worry trickled over the line.

"She's not. Thats why I need your help."

" _What can I do?"_

 _"_ I need you to get a hold of Kohaku. I get the feeling he is our best chance at getting through to Sango."

" _I'll call Rin - that should do it. But what should I tell him?"_

"That we need to get in touch with Sango immediately - find a way to emphasize this is an urgent situation, without worrying him unnecessarily. Can you do that?"

" _I can try. Get back to you as soon as I am able."_

"Thanks, Kagome."

The call disconnected, the brief silence ended as the radio came back through the speakers. Miroku drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his mind moving rapidly over files, desperately trying to find a connection. For lack of something better to do, he called Sesshomaru.

" _Yes._ "

"Anything new?"

" _I did just get a frantic call from my daughter,"_ displeasure laced his calm tone. " _Apparently her little friend's sister might be in trouble, and she is quite worried."_

"Was Kohaku able to get a hold of Sango?"

" _If he was, do you think she would have called me in such a state?"_

Miroku winced.

"Guess not."

" _Without going into details, I told her I was aware of the situation, and asked her to have her brother alert us if he heard anything. Naturally, I did not mention her suspected location."_

"Naturally."

" _I did find something of interest, however,"_ He continued smoothly. " _I think I know why this person is targeting Dr. Taijiya, and, coincidentally, why you were added to his list of victims."_

There was a break in the traffic, and Miroku jerked the wheel to weave around the obstruction - much to the annoyance of several motorists and at least one police officer.

"Talk fast," he checked the mirror, hopeful that the flashing lights stayed behind him. "I've got a date to break up."

* * *

Dinner had been pleasant, and Kakewaki had asked her to join him for afterdrinks. Her glass of wine with dinner hadn't been enough to compromise her driving, so she'd arrived at the Spider's Den under her own power.

" _You never get a night out,"_ the secretary at work had said when she arranged to have her calls forwarded. " _Barring a medical emergency, I'm leaving instructions for no one to interrupt you, okay? I've got our best people filling in for you - just enjoy yourself for once!"_

She saw the missed calls from Miroku, and had a twinge of doubt, but ultimately decided that he would know to call the other numbers, and that if there was an emergency someone would alert her. As for Kohaku, he had already told her he was on rotation tonight, and wouldn't be available until late in the evening (and she suspected that time would be spent relaxing with Rin.) Resolved, she put her phone on silent and tucked it into her bag.

Surely the world could take care of itself for just a few, small hours.

That being said, she wasn't quite sure how many hours it had been.

"How is your drink?"

"Hm?"

Sango looked up at Kagewaki, her gaze unfocused.

"Oh. This? Fine I guess. I'm not a big drinker."

"You should take that slow," his lips twisted into something a little less friendly. "That one is a bit stronger than the last one."

"Is it?" she frowned, stirring it with a thin straw. "I thought I ordered the same thing."

"Different bartender," he shrugged.

"So, tell me," she sat back. "Why this place?"

"I always bring my dates here. At least before I bring them home."

"You don't have to bring me home," she shook her head. "I drove. And I have the number for a cab."

"Not to your home, Sango," his voice was dark and smooth and velvet. "My home."

"Sorry," her smile was crooked. "Too soon."

"We'll see what you think after that drink," he shrugged.

"I doubt I'll change my mind," she frowned.

His eyes glinted wickedly, but he shrugged again.

"Hope springs eternal."

* * *

Miroku was driving far faster than was legal, or even prudent, but he didn't care.

He had to get to Sango.

" _So you are telling me that this Kagewaki person was after Sango from the start?"_ Inuyasha asked, the sound of traffic in the background of his call.

"Sesshomaru's people have linked him to someone that was very interested in having Sango delivered to him. This person followed Sango's fighting career and decided she'd be an excellent addition to his underground fighting ciruit in Japan."

" _I'm guessing this isn't a legal underground fighting circuit."_

"Closer to slavery and sex trade," Miroku's eyes were hard. "Naturally that was not how the person initially approached her, but all offers were rebuffed. They initially planned to kidnap Kohaku to force her hand, but as it turns out, he was spending time with the daughter of a very influential, very vindictive person."

" _And if Rin was harmed in any way there is no where they could go that he wouldn't find them..."_

"And if Kohaku disappeared, it was certain Rin would alert her father. But if Sango were to disappear under what appeared to be mundane circumstances, Sesshomaru's involvement could've been circumvented."

" _And when you interrupted this guy's plans, you landed on his radar?"_

 _"_ I was already on his radar. The woman was sent to work at our company to keep an eye on Sesshomaru and several others at our office - me included. He wanted to avoid complications."

" _So this guy had to know you were seeing Sango for therapy, right?"_

 _"_ Pretty sure that made him more determined," Miroku grimaced. "Any gifts he sent to the office always came during our sessions - probably his way of goading me in a psychological sort of way."

" _You know this isn't your fault, right? This nutcase was going to go after her whether or not you interfered."_

"Doesn't mean it isn't personal."

" _I'm about twenty minutes out. Kagome is at home; I made Rin promise to stay with her and keep her out of this. Try not to kick any ass until I get there to help you."_

Miroku's smirk twisted into something darker and more determined.

"No promises."

* * *

Mirkou wasn't sure what he expected to find when he reached the Spider's Den, but it certainly wasn't the mosaic of chaos engulfing the small neighborhood.

The flash of red and blue lights bounced off of the buildings, and the older, narrow streets were congested with emergency vehicles behind tangles of crime scene tape.

"Shit," Miroku pulled over and jumped out of the car, running toward the epicenter of the melee. "Shit-shit-shit!"

As he got closer, he couldn't help himself from calling out. "Sango! Sango, where are you?"

The crowd was murmuring words about 'fights' and 'drugs' and 'date-rape' and 'prostitutes,' and every unpleasant conclusion possible was floating through his mind. He looked up, getting his bearings. The neighborhood was older and a low-key bohemian area - respectable enough in its own quirky way. The Spider's Den was, per Kagome, a bar in the top of one of the buildings in the middle of the block, the lower half of which was a travel agency that had seen better years in a world before the internet. He could see the faded and outdated travel posters hanging in the large windows, and the small, single door that would lead up to the Spider's den.

A police officer was talking to someone at the doorway, hastily scribbling down notes. If Sango was anywhere she was beyond those yellow lines and curious crowds.

Miroku made his way through the crowd and into the cordoned off area with assurance before breaking in a run toward the bar.

"Sir!" an officer called behind him. "You can't go in there – SIR!"

But Miroku didn't even flinch, much less slow down.

Even the clap of a heavy hand on his shoulder didn't stop him - he just turned around swinging.

Luckily the other person was very, very fast.

"I thought that was you," Kouga sighed. "What the hell are you doing here, Miroku?"

"I'm looking for Dr. Sango Taijiya," he said firmly. "She was here with someone called Kagewaki-"

"Naraku, actually," Kouga crossed his arms. "Turns out this place was part of a much bigger network of shit. The real Kagewaki is safely in an entirely different country, and has never been here. Naraku borrowed his identity for his games."

"Games?" Miroku blinked as if hit. "Is that what you call this?"

"Well, let's see," Kouga pulled out his notepad. "Prostitution, drug running, slavery ring, extortion, larceny, arson – that is a personal specialty of his - grand theft auto… you name it," he snapped the notebook closed, "this guy has done it. We found no less than three drugged women at the bar tonight, which, by the way, he owned."

Miroko paled.

"And Sango?"

"Third ambulance down," Kouga nodded. "But she-"

But Miroku was gone.

He raced to the ambulance, where Sango sat on the back bumper with a fire blanket draped across her shoulders, idly swinging her feet back and forth above the worn and cracked pavement.

Her head jerked up when she heard her name, confusion plain on her features as he appeared before her.

"Miroku?" she looked him over. "What are you doing here?"

His relief at finding her looking completely unconcerned was strongly at odds with finding her clearly still dazed, with blood down the front of her shirt.

"I came looking for you," he said simply.

"Oh?" she cocked her head to the side. "Why? Did something happen?

"I think maybe you should be the one answering that question," he said wryly, taking a seat next to her on the bumper.

"Went on a date with Kagewaki," she snorted sipping water from the bottle the paramedic had given her. "Didn't turn out so well."

"I'd say police involvement isn't usually the earmark of a good date."

"No kidding," she winced as she touched her swollen bottom lip.

"Kagewaki..." he ventured.

"The jerk," she muttered darkly. "What about him?"

"Did… did he…hurt you?"

"Tried," she shrugged nonchalantly. "But this," she motioned to the blood on her shirt, "is his, not mine."

Miroku blinked, even as something in his stomach lightened ever so slightly. "His?"

"Yeah. Kagewaki's. Or Naruto. Naraku? Whateverthehell they are calling him now. The fucker who drugged me," she crossed her arms petulantly. "Do you know he had the audacity to _tell me_ what he had done? Straight up bad-guy-monologued the whole thing, and then tried to take me home with him."

"And you… stopped him?"

"Well of course I did," she scoffed. "I used my phone to record his ranting – because every good therapist can whip out a phone and record at a moment's notice without someone noticing; it's practically a reflex – and then when we stood up, I kicked his ass."

"You," Miroku looked her over. "You kicked his ass?"

"Well, yeah?" she raised an eyebrow at him. "Who'd'you think?"

He had no reply, but didn't really have time to wait for one.

"Hey, Miroku!" Inuyasha came jogging around the corner. "You find her?"

He looked between the two of them sitting on the back bumper of the ambulance.

"I'm guessing you're Dr. Taijiya? Kohaku's sister?"

"Hey, yeah!" her face brightened. "How do you know Kohaku?"

"Um...," he looked at Miroku, confused. "I'm Rin's uncle?"

"Oh, you know Rin!" she practically glowed with excitement. "So you must be the one who is having the baby! Well the dad of the new baby because your wife is the one doing that part, but oh how nice to meet you!"

"SANGO!"

"Kohaku? What are you - Oh, Rin! Rin, I just met your Uncle! Hey, Kohaku - this is Rin's Uncle!"

"I know," he said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder to steady her as he inspected her bruised lip. "What happened?"

"Bad date," she shrugged.

"Doesn't seem too bothered by it," Inuyasha muttered.

"She's drugged," the paramedic walked over with another bottle of water and a to-go cup of hot tea. "And if you saw the other guy, you'd know why she wasn't so worried."

Kohaku's grin was slow.

"You pulverized him, didn't you?"

"I might've given him several good reasons to never try that stunt again," she said airly, accepting the tea while Miroku held her water.

"More accurate to say you almost took away one of his reasons for trying it," the paramedic smirked. "Thanks for that autograph, by the way" he patted his breast pocket. "Long time fan."

"No problem," she shrugged, while the others took turns looking between each other.

"Wait a minute," Inuyasha turned to his niece. "If you are here, where is your Aunt?"

"I... might've left her with Jaken?"

"Then we should get one of these paramedics to go," Inuyasha looked around, "because she will definitely kill him."

"He brought over Mushin's fried pickles, and Ah and Un took all of the car keys and parked a few blocks away. We have a little bit of time."

"And how long do we have until your father comes here looking for you?"

"None," Sesshomaru said breezily, appearing as perfection in his impecable suit - untouchable order in the sea of entropy.

"Hi, Rin's Dad!" Sango waved.

He arched one, slim eyebrow.

"Kohaku's sister, I take it?" he slid a glance at the young man, standing next to her.

"Yes, Sir," he put an arm around her shoulders. "This is my sister, Sango."

"Nice to finally meet you," he gave a small nod.

"Likewise!"

"And who is in charge of this investigation?"

"Oh, Jesus," Kouga stood, hands on hips. "What the fuck, Mutt Face? Schedule a reunion in the middle of my crime scene?"

"Can it, Wolf-Boy," Inuyasha snarled. "Can't you see we're busy?"

"Yeah, I can see it," he snapped back. "And you can all see your way back on the other side of the yellow tape with the rest of the civilians and let us do our job."

"I will be staying," Sesshomaru said simply. "I have information that you need. Miroku will also stay, as he is part of this debacle."

"Fine," Kouga glowered, clearly unwilling to take on the older of the Taisho brothers unneccessarily, "but as for the rest of you -!"

"My _daughter_ will be leaving in the company of her friend and uncle," Sesshomaru interrupted coolly. "Rin," he turned to her, leaving Kouga to glare daggers at his back. "I am needed here. I will make sure that you are alerted the moment they transport Dr. Taijiya, so that you can meet her at the hospital. I understand she will be wanted for overnight observation, so I suggest you help Kohaku prepare whatever she might need and meet her there."

"Right," she gave a perfunctory nod. "I can do that."

"Good. Now, officer? I believe we have much to discuss," he led the way for a muttering Kouga to follow.

Kohaku looked over his sister.

"I hate to leave you," he ventured uncomfortably.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Besides - Rin's dad is right. The sooner they get the police end of this done the sooner I can leave. Check on Kirara for me, won't you? I'm worried about her."

Kohaku gave a small laugh. "Sure, sis." She stood and he gave her a tight hug, murmurring something in her ear. He held her at arms length, and she nodded.

He turned to Miroku, hand outstretched.

"Look after her?"

Miroku stood to shake his hand. "I will."

Sango waited until they were all out of earshot to sigh wearily.

"I hate dating."

Despite everything, he laughed.

It was a clear, honest-to-goodness laugh colored with relief and grattitude.

"What," her lips tipped upward in spite of herself. "It's true! In fact, after this, I'm pretty sure the universe is telling me to stop dating altogether."

"Well that's a shame. I was hoping we might go out for dinner some time."

"See - this is just my luck," she threw up her hands. "Amazing hot guy comes to my office for weeks, but is a sex addict, and I can't date him anyway because ethics, and then another almost as hot guy ends up being some kind of drug-lord-spider-pimp master. I quit. I'm going to go home and adopt about five-hundred cats to keep Kilalla company."

"I'm not a sex addict."

"We've gone through this, Miroku," she sighed. "You have to embrace what you are, or you'll never really heal and –"

He wasn't sure why he did it really. By all rights he should've kept a respectful distance if only to keep his own ass from getting kicked, but before he could really think things through, he'd caught her up in a fierce embrace, and a gentle kiss.

"I'm not a sex addict," he whispered against her temple. "But I was scared shitless with worry tonight. Please remember that before kicking my ass."

"You're not a sex addict?"

"No. One of Naraku's people was trying to land me and several others in hot water with false accusations. I was sent to therapy to cover up the investigation."

"Well that's a shame," she frowned. "I like sex."

"So, do I," his grin was slow. "But I suspect that was the drugs talking."

"Oh, the drugs are helping," she agreed readily. "But I really do like sex. Just… who has the time?"

"Indeed."

"And all of my dates always end so poorly… well…" she looked around at the crime scene tape and flashing lights. "Not usually this poorly."

"Tell you what," he considered her. "As of today, I'm no longer your patient. Why don't we go to dinner tomorrow and celebrate the end of our clinical relationship?"

"Ugh," she rested her head on his chest. "Another one bites the dust."

"True," he admitted, "But that one was boring. We could talk about sex all we liked, but you kept telling me ways to avoid having it."

"Shit," she muttered. "That can take weeks to undo."

"Oh, I don't think so," his smile was sly. "You see, I am a very, very poor patient."

"You are? But you were doing so well!"

"I am also a very good liar."

"That isn't particularly reassuring…"

"Neither is a relationship starting after a busting up a criminal ring, and yet I feel strangely positive about this one."

"You do?"

"Mm," he brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

"So now what?"

"So now, you get to spend the night in the hospital, and I'll probably be up all night talking to the police and waiting for you. In the morning, I'll drop you off at home – we'll probably both crash in our respective houses for twenty-four hours, we'll shower (again, in our respective houses) and then we'll meet up."

"I'm not looking forward to any of that but the last part. And the shower."

"Well, make sure you take whatever meds they give you, or you're going to hate life in the morning. Can't have a new thing start well when you are busy hating life."

"Fair. Will I remember any of this?"

"Hard to say. Might take a while, depending on what he gave you."

"Then I'll be embarrassed later. I've been wanting to do this for weeks."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

And as she did, Miroku realized he had a whole new addiction.

And he couldn't wait to indulge.

* * *

 _Thank you so much for reading, friends!_

 _With love and appreciation,_  
 _\- Giada_


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